


Herdir Barvdan (Master Amorer)

by RinzlersGhost



Series: Tumblr Requests [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29802921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinzlersGhost/pseuds/RinzlersGhost
Summary: Anon asked for Glorfindel X Elf Reader. Context given was that Reader is a guard and has a crush on Glorfindel but thinks they don't have a chance, not knowing that they're Glorfindel's crush as well. Requited (oblivious) love.Glorfindel X Gender Neutral Reader
Relationships: Glorfindel (Tolkien)/Reader
Series: Tumblr Requests [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190627
Kudos: 8





	Herdir Barvdan (Master Amorer)

**Author's Note:**

> Hir/hir-nin - Lord/my lord  
> Maer - Yes  
> Aran - King  
> Herdir - Master  
> Elo - Stars

You could only watch as a beautiful mane of golden hair walked past you without a care in the world. You immediately averted your attention back to polishing the armor in your hands, hanging it up neatly once you were done. Lower ranked guards of Imladris were assigned to work in the armory until they knew it like the back of their hands. You were one of them. Coincidentally, you happened to be working under the direction of one of the marchwardens, but that was beside the point. Nestadion was not a difficult teacher, in fact, you would venture to say that he was probably one of the kindest, but he also had no tolerance for slacking off.

Lindir followed soon after, setting out armor pieces to be cleaned and polished. “Y/N, right?”

“ _ Hir _ Lindir.” You greeted him softly. “Yes, Y/N.”

“Would you be able to tend to this today? Lord Elrond has requested my presence elsewhere.” You nodded to him as he laid down the sword as well, the leather stained darkly with orc blood. Lindir did not often meddle in the affairs of war, although he was Elrond’s chief of staff and ran councils concerning trade and diplomacy of the Valley. You were more likely to see Erestor than you were Lindir, so his presence was... out of the ordinary.

“ _ Maer, hir-nin _ .” You replied quietly.

“What? Lord Elrond can’t deign himself to come down here and clean his own armor?” The bright mane belonged to the Balrog Slayer himself,  _ Hir  _ Glorfindel, and you tried to avert your eyes as he gathered his own supplies to clean his armor, taking a seat across from you.

“Spending your time at the wrong side of the border? From what I garnered, Lord Elrond had a successful patrol today slaying orcs.” Lindir remarked. 

“My presence is needed elsewhere. I’ve been working with Gildor and his patrol of wandering guardians.” Glorfindel murmured. “Good for Elrond; shame on him for not cleaning his own armor.” He began to meticulously pick grit from the seams in his chestpiece. Your eyes drifted for a moment, watching his movements. You thought his story was interesting-- died in one age to be brought back in another to serve as an emissary. He captured the attention of everyone around him and you supposed you were included.

“Y/N.” Nestadion warned quietly and your eyes snapped back to your work.

“Lord Elrond has his work cut out for him. Y/N is perfectly capable of cleaning it. The armory is a testament to their work.” Lindir replied. “But if that’s all you have to spit about it, I’ll be on my way. Y/N, please deliver it to Lord Elrond’s study when you are done.”

“Yes, my lord.” You murmured. Glorfindel scoffed a little bit, scouring his own armor while you started on Elrond’s armor, cleaning the blood and grit from it, checking the seams and making sure that each piece moved in harmony, hanging it up piece by piece. You frowned when you realized you were missing a crucial component. “He wasn’t wearing mail.” You whispered.

“He was on horseback.” Glorfindel filled in for you. You glanced upwards, meeting his blue eyes and blushing, turning your attention back to your job lest you make a mistake. “He had no intention of battling on the ground. It’s likely he led a patrol of archers out, to combat those who came too close to the Hidden Pass.”

“I suppose that would make sense.” You murmured.

“How long have you been a guard?”

“Oh, I um...” You hesitated. “I used to work in the service of  _ Aran  _ Thranduil. One of the Kingsguards said that I had some talent but the option to be trained was not available so I was sent here instead. I guess... maybe a decade or so.”

“And you’re still cleaning armor? Is this what you do everyday?”

“I manage the armory-- make sure that all equipment is up to par, that all pieces come together in harmony, that all blades are sharpened and balanced, and all bows are seamless without cracks or tears.” You straightened. There was no reason not to take pride in your work. Glorfindel looked over you to Nestadion; the other ellon seemed amused.

“Strange to see you not in the field.”

“Y/N is being tested. And you are a distraction.” Nestadion replied. “One they are managing well. Lord Elrond needs someone who can run the armory. Erestor has... other councils to attend to.” You hadn’t realized the importance of the position you were in and ducked your head, finishing up the armor and taking care of the blade, testing the mettle of it, making sure that it was balanced before sharpening it carefully. You met blades with Glorfindel as you tested it out, and out of instinct, you were aiming for the point of an unshielded wrist on his blade bearing arm, drawing peaks of blood welling to the surface.

“I yield.” Glorfindel murmured, not having expected a guard who ran the armory to immediately go for a disabling move.

“Apologies, _ hir-nin _ .” You blinked, shaking off the instinct and cleaning the blade, sitting back down to clean the sheath.

“And that is why Lord Elrond’s trust is not misplaced.” Nestadion murmured. “Consider this test passed.”

“I can see the talent you seem to possess but why hide as the master of the armory?” Glorfindel asked. “You could be in the field.”

“I don’t think so.” You replied, wrapping everything up and leaving to take the armor to Elrond’s studies.

You found the aforementioned lord in quiet meditation before dinner, taking a moment to himself, and arranged his armor carefully on the maquette, belting the sword around it.

“ _ Hir _ Nestadion says you are performing well in your position. I heard you ran into some unexpected company, which I apologize for deeply.”

“It is of no matter.” You tried to keep your feelings out of your voice. “ _ Hir _ Glorfindel has a right to that armory as much as anyone else does. Your armor is in excellent condition, as always. As long as it is kept up, it should last you many more years.”

“And the blade?”

“Balanced still. Sharp as ever.”

“Good.” Elrond replied. “I trust that today hasn’t put a damper on your views on potentially becoming master of the armory? Or would you rather be in the field?” You didn’t dare look him in the eyes, scuffing your boots against the floor.

“Whatever position you deem me fit for, my lord, I will serve.” You replied.

“Then I would like to see you become the master of Imladris’ armory.” Elrond remarked. “You will begin to sit on some of Erestor’s councils as well.”

“If my lord decrees it, then so I will serve.” You replied. He glanced over for a moment to look at you, head bowed, hands behind your back, and eyes on the floor.

“I’m not Thranduil. You don’t need to show me such deference. If you want something else, speak your mind now.” Elrond murmured.

“I have no desires of my own, my lord.” You replied. You couldn’t help that your mind was thinking about Glorfindel. You had longed, once upon a time, to have the courage to speak to him and now that you had, you felt shame for injuring him. Your cheeks heated in flame and your head hung low; there was no way that a lord like him would like someone like you. Elrond studied you. He had most ardently heard Glorfindel raving about you while in Nestadion’s company, astonished that someone who was a mere guard, training for a position as master of the armory, would be staying behind the ivory towers of the city and not be out in the field.

“ _ Herdir _ Y/N.” Elrond murmured. “You have more hope than you think you do.” You shook your head. “I’ll send Lindir with a schedule. Get some rest. We’ll resume the appointment of your title once our current company is out of the Valley.” 

* * *

The months passed quickly after that, and Elrond would admit that you performed well even for someone who had never sat on councils. Erestor’s reviews of your performance were exemplary. You continued to bow your head and work with it down, although you were more than content to look on Glorfindel whenever his back was turned, sneaking glances occasionally when it wasn’t, but never directly actually making contact with him.

In the meantime, you never suspected that he had fallen for you the moment you had nearly run him through with Elrond’s sword. He actually made it a point to stay in the armory to polish his armor rather than just simply take it to his talan as he had often done in the past. You often stayed to train late at night, and one night he couldn’t take his curiosity any longer. You were dressed in traditional armor of the Greenwood. Perhaps you had bought it, but that wasn’t the point. 

Metal met metal as he put himself into the sparring ring with you. Elves didn’t traditionally engage in physical combat without a weapon, at least not here in Imladris, but there you were and you showed no signs of yielding to your new partner. His blows did not faze you at all, and soon the tension between you was rising, especially when you locked eye contact with him and refused to look away, relying on such subtle signals that he was going to move. It was a dance, he thought, a dance of metal on metal, feet moving together, bodies moving as one fluid movement back and forth. You had a strength you didn’t project and he was mesmerized by it.

All you could think about was kissing him.  _ Elo _ , he was so close to you! Your body obeyed the commands, the subtle cues of his own. Every move you made was based on his own. Until he did something you didn’t expect and stepped into you, lifting your chin with his fingers and kissing you until every rational thought flew out of your mind. You hooked your fingers into the gaps of his armor, pulling him ever closer.

“ _ Hir-nin _ !” You finally gasped out, realizing the impropriety of the situation. “My lord, you should...”

“Kiss me.” Glorfindel whispered. You blinked.

“My lord?”

“Glorfindel.” He corrected softly. “Kiss me.” You would never have this chance again, you thought. Could you ruin it for someone else? 

“I shouldn’t...”

“I am not promised to anyone. Kiss me.” You threw your caution to the wind, stepping into him and kissing him again, melting into his arms as they came around you. “Court me.” Glorfindel breathed.

“ _ Hir-nin _ ... Glorfindel.” You whispered. “But I am no one special.”

“I disagree.” He murmured, pressing his head to yours. “Court me, and I’ll make sure you never think that again.”

“I accept your offer of courtship.” You murmured. This couldn’t be real, could it? But then his lips were on yours again, and he gave you no more room for doubts. You couldn’t help the smile that peeked through and he met it with one of his own, the both of you enjoying the tender moment.


End file.
